Leaving for the colder time
the poet's friend begins to climb-
that staircase of reform.

But in the creek the poet thinks
when did our time begin to shrink-
o our bond is now deformed.

Age in it's wicked heart-
tipped and teared us apart.
I never took you as a ghost.

In youth I would always say,
"Can't wait to grow and move away",
never should've left the coast.

I miss you my old friend.
I know it's been awhile since then,
I ensure you my love is home.

But we will never be same again,
we will be away my friend,
drift apart you talented beast, may you roam.